live, die, keep dreaming.
She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.
Eleanor & Park, Rainbow Rowell  (via fassadenmensch)

themadmanblogs:

(1934) This Is Just To Say - William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Why do you weep? Did you think I was immortal?
Louis XIV’s last words (via fassyy)